


Somewhere I Belong

by steelcrash



Category: Stargate SG-1, The Avengers (2012), Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelcrash/pseuds/steelcrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers are going to learn the truth about Earth's involvement with alien species. Avengers/Transformers/Stargate-SG1 crossover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere I Belong

Somewhere I Belong  
Chapter 1  
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, Stargate-SG1 or Transformers. They belong to, respectively, Marvel/Disney, MGM and Hasbro. I am merely taking them for a short spin. 

More than six months had passed since the attack on New York, but it was a mostly busy time for Steve Rogers. A few ops with Tony Stark, several with Clint Barton and one with Natasha Romanoff in Moscow. The one with Natasha, that one was almost fun. Almost. He’d had to wear a tux and everything, just like that movie character, James Bond. But that brought back bad memories. Something he doubted he’d ever shake.   
There hadn’t been a crisis big enough for all of them to fight together, but they still found time a couple of times a month to get together. Movie night or dinner, usually at Stark’s, with Pepper Potts organizing the whole thing. A baseball game, or a museum outing. (His idea, one of the more raucous gatherings, thanks to Stark.) It brought a smile to his face. Not much did these days. He filled his downtime with reading, drawing, working out or trying to catch up on everything he missed during his 70 years in the ice. He even took off on the motorcycle a couple of times, hoping to get good and lost again, but Fury or someone always found him. He didn’t mind that. It meant he was needed.   
Except he was now sitting in a waiting room in SHIELD’s New York headquarters, waiting to meet with Fury. Rogers sighed when the SHIELD director entered the room, sitting down across from him  
“I have a job for you,” Fury said.   
“What is it?” Rogers asked.   
“I already have one of my best men on it, but I want a second pair of eyes on this op,” Fury said. “Yours.”  
“Can’t you send someone else?” Rogers asked.  
“Nope. You’re going. This is not negotiable, Cap” Fury said. “Agencies that have no idea what they’re getting into are fighting for control over this project. The DOD has control right now, but some bureaucrats who think they know better than the men on the ground are trying to shift the situation in their favor.”  
“What’s that got to do with me?” Rogers said.  
“I get this one straightened out, and a few well-placed people in some very important agencies are going to owe me some favors,” Fury said. “More importantly, you do this for me, I’ll owe you.”  
“How long?”  
“A couple of weeks,” Fury said. “Why, got plans?”  
Rogers glared back.   
“A couple of weeks is all I’m asking,” Fury said. “Feel things out, tell me how it’s going. I need an impartial observer on this one, and you’re it. Besides, you need to get out in the world a little more.”  
“Fine,” Rogers said. “When do I leave?”  
“Tonight,” Fury said, watching Rogers leave.   
Rogers was the right one for the job, he just didn’t know it yet. Fury had a briefing package downloaded and waiting for Rogers back at his apartment. Seemed to be the best way of getting the point across. Rogers was a good soldier and would do as he was told, most of the time. Fury needed someone he could trust on the op, and Rogers was it, although how much the soldier trusted him was anyone’s guess. He and the other Avengers tolerated him, and they were starting to accept the fact they were going to answer to Hill or Jasper Sitwell. Sitwell was working out well, but Fury knew that was likely to change once certain information came to light.   
Then there was the more pressing matter—the situation in Nevada. Charlotte Mearing, director of national intelligence, was up to her eyeballs, losing a battle she couldn’t win. She’d made a few mistakes, and Fury knew she was trying to make up for it now. At the Pentagon, his old friend Gen. Morshower needed all the support he could get, and by lending his, he hoped it would shift it back where it needed to be. However, a joint op with SHIELD would be mutually beneficial.   
88888  
The Nevada sunset was fading as the SHIELD quinjet touched down on the tarmac, and Rogers was met by two soldiers.   
“Captain Rogers?”  
“That’s me,” he said.   
“Follow us.”  
Shouldering his duffel, Rogers followed them into a hangar where another soldier was waiting.   
“I’m Capt. William Lennox,” he said, offering a hand in greeting. “You must be Capt. Rogers. It’s an honor, sir.”  
Rogers shook the offered hand.   
“I’ll give you a ride into town,” Lennox said. “We’re still renovating quarters here on base, so you’ll have to stay somewhere else tonight until we can get the details worked out. I get the feeling you had this all dumped on you, right?”  
Rogers nodded in affirmation.   
“I know you’ve met one of the bots—you’re lucky Prowl is here on base and not off on an op,” Lennox said. “He’s out on patrol tonight, but he’ll be here in the morning. Any questions?”  
“No,” Rogers said.   
Lennox sighed. They were off to a great start.  
88888  
0730 and Rogers was following Lennox around the base, listening as he introduced personnel and pointed out the important places around base, the foremost being the coffee maker in the common room, except Lennox lead him right past it, and outside.   
“Prowl will be here in a few minutes to show you around. I have a briefing, but I’ll be free in a couple of hours. You need anything, let me know,” Lennox said. He clapped the other man on the shoulder, leaving him alone.   
Rogers yawned and stretched, taking a look around. The base was starting to wake up, with the sound of vehicles in the distance and people out walking around. All familiar, but he knew it was going to get strange very fast. And from the sound of footsteps, he knew it was beginning. Rogers turned around, watching a 20-foot tall white, black and silver being coming his way. The mechanical being knelt down on one knee.   
“Capt. Rogers, it’s good to see you again,” Prowl said. “You’ve been well?”  
“I’ve been better,” Rogers muttered.   
“Do you require sustenance?” Prowl asked.   
“Coffee,” Rogers said. “Lennox didn’t give me a chance to get any.”  
“He was running late,” Prowl said. “The officials in Washington become unhappy if the morning briefing is even a few minutes off schedule. Please, get your coffee and I’ll wait here for you.”  
Rogers walked back inside the hangar, heading for the common area, grabbed a cup of coffee went back outside, where Prowl was bending down to talk to another human, this one in a suit. The soldier sipped his coffee, checking his messages on his phone, and all three were from irate teammates asking where he was. He quickly texted Stark back, telling him he was fine, and on an op, and he’d call him later. When he was finished, he noticed Prowl was giving him an amused look.   
“What?” Rogers asked.   
“You humans and your gadgets,” Prowl said. “You have an unhealthy attachment to them.”  
“Not this human,” Rogers said. “I could do without all the technology. No offense.”  
“None taken,” Prowl said. “Come. There are others you must meet.”  
Rogers followed the bot into another hangar, down the corridor.   
“This is where ops, the med bay and the lab are housed,” Prowl said. “As well as some of our living quarters. Not the best arrangement, but it’s the best we can do right now.”  
“What do you mean by that?” Rogers asked.   
“Due to the behaviors and skill sets of certain individuals, it’s in their best interests to have the lab and med bay reasonably close,” Prowl said. “Close enough to deal with any wounds, but not in enough proximity to damage the med bay. Follow me please.”  
Rogers followed him into what he guessed was the lab, where two more of the mechanical beings were arguing, with one human yelling up at them, with another sitting on the workbench, watching the argument with amusement.   
“Wheeljack, Perceptor, we have a guest,” Prowl snapped. “What is it this time?”  
“Percy said it’s my fault we’re missing some of our supplies, but I just took inventory yesterday, and there’s no way. . .” Wheeljack said.   
“I’ll look into it,” Prowl said. “I can guess where any missing supplies are, and what it’s being used for. Capt. Rogers, the mech with the glowing face fins is Wheeljack, one of our finest engineers. Perceptor is a scientist. The human with the glasses is Dr. Daniel Jackson, an archaeologist, and the other is Lt. Col. Cameron Mitchell. This is Capt. Steve Rogers.”  
Prowl watched as the humans stared at one another, Rogers’ face unreadable, Jackson had a slight frown and Mitchell, well, one could never tell. And of course, he was the first to introduce himself to Rogers.  
“Call me Cam,” Mitchell said, offering a hand, which Rogers shook. “Jackson, don’t look so sour. He’s just here to do his job.”  
Jackson sighed, but shook man’s hand, then went back to work.   
“Nice work in New York,” Mitchell said.   
“What?”  
“Cap,” Mitchell said. “Right? What do you prefer to be called.”  
“Steve,” Rogers said.   
“Fine,” Mitchell said. “Find me if you need anything, OK? I know Lennox probably told you to talk to him, but I’ve got a little more flexibility and time.”  
“Sure,” Rogers said.   
“Overwhelmed yet?” Prowl asked.   
“Not yet,” he replied.   
“Good,” Prowl said. “I’ll show you ops, and then I’ll answer any questions you might have.”  
They walked down the corridor, around the corner and into the base’s nerve center. Except at the moment, it was anything but a calm and professional place.   
“By the unmaker I’m going to kill them all. . .” Prowl muttered, looking up at the ceiling. “All right, who is responsible?”  
Five sets of optics were locked on Prowl, one set was looking up at the mech stuck to the ceiling.   
“Sideswipe. . .”  
“Bluestreak did it,” Sideswipe said. “I helped.”  
“There. Was that so hard?” Prowl asked.   
“Not really, not when Sunstreaker is going to kill me later,” Sideswipe said.   
“Not when you’re both in the brig,” Prowl said. “Report to Kup after you get your twin down. Hot Rod, Springer, help him. And if you’re not all at your posts when I return. . .”  
He left the threat open-ended, hoping they’d take the hint. After all, couldn’t really threaten his fellow bots in front of the new human.   
“How did they duct-tape him to the ceiling?” Rogers said.   
“I’ll find out,” Prowl said. “I’ll introduce you to the delinquents when we come back. Right now, there’s someone else I want you to meet.”  
Prowl lead him to another room, where a large bot, the biggest he’d yet seen, was talking to a smaller red one.   
“Capt. Rogers, may I introduce you to Optimus Prime and Elita-1?” Prowl said.   
The big blue and red flame-covered bot knelt down. “Captain, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Optimus said.   
“Sir,” Rogers said.   
“Another human sent to spy,” Elita said.   
“Elita,” Optimus snapped.   
“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” Elita said. “We were told you’re not like the rest. I hope that information is correct.”  
Before Rogers could stammer a reply, Prowl was herding him back outside.   
“What the hell was that about?” Rogers said.   
“Were you briefed at all on any of this?” Prowl asked.   
“I was told to observe, and report back,” Rogers said. “I wasn’t told anything else.”  
Prowl vented air in a sigh. “We have much work to do,” he said.


End file.
